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“You must be a prophet right enough,” said Alvin Junior, “cause I can’t understand a thing you said.”

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“Don’t talk to me like you understand my sins.”
“Don’t talk to me like you know what I do and do not understand.” Alvin chuckled grimly. “Oh, that mouth you’ve got.”
“You can’t answer what I said, so you’re going to talk about my saying it.”

“Do you understand what’s going on?”
“Not at all,” he shouted back. “I can almost prove this can’t be happening.”

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Your talk," I said, "is surely the handiwork of wisdom because not one word of it do I understand.

He who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words.

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil!"

Speak English!' said the Eaglet. 'I don't know the meaning of half those long words, and I don't believe you do either!

“The trouble with you youngsters,” Joe said, “is that if you can’t understand a thing right off, you think it can’t be true. The trouble with your elders is, anything they didn’t understand they reinterpreted to mean something else and then thought they understood it. None of you has tried believing clear words the way they were written and then tried to understand them on that basis. Oh, no, you’re all too bloody smart for that—if you can’t see it right off, it ain’t so—it must mean something different.”

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“I don’t hold with prophets,” said Alvin. “Near as I can tell, they end up just as dead as the next man.”

A prophet is the one who, when everyone else despairs, hopes. And when everyone else hopes, he despairs. You’ll ask me why. It’s because he has mastered the Great Secret: that the Wheel turns.

The man talked, but somehow nothing he said seemed to make any sense.

Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet Yet is not a prophet, for he's much too busy, Repeats while he binds his tomatoes: No other end of the world will there be, No other end of the world will there be.

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